“How’s Mrs. " "Then this is not my child?" exclaimed she, with increased astonishment. “I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. “I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. Both, however, having safely landed, they cautiously crossed the room, and passed down the first flight of steps in silence.
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